This love will stay and linger
by sharkinterviewee
Summary: Gamora huffing and puffing as she laid on the hood of the car like she was being crucified or something wasn't exactly how he imagined this road trip going. He hadn't imagined the flat tire either. All he had to do was replace the tire, but Peter had no idea just how whiny an overheated Gamora could be. (Starmora Week 2018)


**Starmora Week 2018**

 **Day 1: Summer Trip**

* * *

 ** _This love will stay and linger_  
**

* * *

Gamora huffing and puffing as she laid on the hood of the car like she was being crucified or something wasn't exactly how he imagined this road trip going. He hadn't imagined the flat tire either. Really, it had been going fine until then. That was when it all went off rails.

Thankfully all they had to do was pull over so Peter could replace the blown tire with the spare in the trunk, but _somebody_ wasn't happy with how long it was taking.

"Peter, your world is too hot," Gamora whined. Again. She had been complaining about the temperature the whole time. For someone who was supposedly good at handling extreme temperatures, this was taking a lot out of her. He was the one who usually whined about atmospheric conditions or the weather when they were out on missions, not her.

"It's so hot, I hate it," she groaned, sounding like she was dying a slow death. Which, come on, was more than a little over dramatic.

"Seriously?" Peter exclaimed, more in disbelief than actual frustration. "Missouri is where you have temperature problems? Says the woman who was in deep space and covered in ice for nearly two minutes and came to just fine afterwards?"

"It's too hoooottttt _,_ " Gamora whined even louder, trying to drown out the sound of his voice.

"Oh my god, how are you so whiny right now?" He wasn't magic- he couldn't just blink and suddenly things would be fixed. Apparently Gamora didn't have any patience for the time and work it took though.

Peter wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm- almost done replacing the tire. Thank god there was an instruction manual with the spare in the back. He wasn't exactly used to fixing up Terran vehicles, and Gamora definitely would have complained a whole bunch more if he had to fiddle and figure it all out himself. Now it was just the sun bearing down on him, and even he was starting to get a little cranky. "You know, next time you try and brag about how you can withstand 80 different types of torture so of course you should be the first choice on the next high risk hostile mission, I'm gonna bring this up. 80 different types of torture my ass," Peter muttered under his breath. "This is Missouri! You have absolutely nothing to say about my Terran physiology ever again if I can withstand this and you can't. How's that for weak physiology, huh?"

She lifted her head up enough to glare down at him kneeling by the front left tire.

"My species is not suited to temperatures this high," Gamora told him haughtily, narrowing her eyes. "Humans are weird if this is normal to you. Zehoberi do not do high heat. We are particularly sensitive to that side of the extreme. And this is extreme. This is ridiculously hot," she grimaced. He had a feeling that if she could glare the sun into submission, she would do it in a heartbeat. She sighed then, shaking her head almost woefully. "I don't know how you can function in this. I am _this_ close to passing out. Next comes organ failure. I am going to kill you if I end up dying on the side of this empty road in Missouri after surviving saving the galaxy a million freaking times. If I die from overheating instead of in the middle of an epic space battle, I am going to kill you so hard."

Apparently an overheated Gamora is a whiny (and dramatic) Gamora, and sounds _exactly_ like a whiny Peter Quill. Using such a big hyperbole and the word freaking in the same breath- the same sentence even- yeah, that was 100% his influence.

Peter dropped his tool on the ground, standing up so he could actually see her and check on how she was doing spread out on the hood.

"Is it really that bad?" He asked, a note of concern edging into his voice. "Heat's really that bad for Zehoberis? Is it really that bad right now? How worried should I be?"

Gamora lazily opened one eye to look at him, looking more like a cat sunbathing than someone close to perishing. His head blocked out the sun though, so she didn't even have shade her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Things are not really that dire," she said, admitting to her _tiny_ over exaggeration, and Peter sighed in relief. "But yes, Zehoberis and heat do not mix. You're almost done, and then we can turn on the air conditioning. I am fine for now, but I cannot tolerate heat for sustained periods. I just cannot maintain this level of heat for extended periods," she rephrased, revising her statement for accuracy. "It would be another hour before things get critical. Even then, I would simply fall unconscious in my body's attempt to reduce my energy output. I'd get delirious first, though," Gamora added with a shrug, almost as a second thought. "Trust me, you'd be able to tell if it was time to worry."

"How come I never knew that about you before?" Peter asked, settling back down on the ground so he could actually get this wheel on properly and they could get out of there.

Gamora thought for a second. "We've never been in a place this hot for this long. Any higher temperature planet we've always had a cool ship to stay on. It's never been a problem before," she tilted her head side to side, mulling it over. Since she'd lost his head blocking out the sun she'd closed her eyes again, and even laid her arm across her face, because it was still so bright through her closed eyelids. Seriously, what was wrong with this planet? No one should live under a sun this unyielding. "And probably because I can withstand higher temperatures than your body can. I am better at withstanding extremely high temperatures than you- just for short periods of time. Small bursts. You've probably never known because I am always the first choice for high temperature aspects on missions because I can withstand extreme temperatures and remain coherent and competent. I function the best of all of us in extreme heat situations, and can get in get out quick. You would pass out in two minutes in a 12 kant environment. You would be dead within nine. Same goes for Drax in a 13 or 14 kant environment. While I can maintain functionality in 17 kants for a quarter of an hour. But I suppose it's like that- that thing said. With all the- all the earth facts," Gamora pressed her lips together, trying to remember the fuzzy details. Her memory was already starting to lag behind mid-ramble from exposure to this insufferable heat. Oh well, she knew he knew what she was talking about. She was talking about the thing. "How humans and cheetahs are the best runners of land species on this planet. The growly animal is the fastest, with short bursts of speed. But humans are the best long distance runners at a sustained speed. I'll confess, I was surprised by that fact. Anyways, when it comes to heat, I am the cheetah in this scenario, and you are the human in this scenario. You're the human in every scenario," she laughed to herself after she heard what she said. Snickered to herself, more like it- like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Gamora suddenly stuck her arm straight up and wiggled it in the air. "It feels like… maybe 8 kants right now," she estimated, feeling the heat on her skin. Though she could be off (it was very likely, actually) since her mental faculties were already beginning to suffer what with not being able to remember what the earth fact thing they saw was. Luckily, no one was going to quote her on her exact temperature estimation skills right now. She didn't need to be precise. "Yes, I will be fine enough for an hour or so. I would probably lose consciousness not long after, though. Humans are insane. You consider this temperature livable? What did Terrans do before they invented air conditioning?"

"Gamora, we didn't _have_ air conditioning when I was a kid," Peter laughed, loud and full.

Gamora gasped in shock, rolling onto her side to look down at him still working on the tire, to see if he was joking. He wasn't. The horrified look on her face just about doubled when she realized he was telling the truth.

"Well, the school did, and most of the shops in town," he clarified, "Just, we were really poor, and our old farmhouse didn't have air conditioning. Going swimming in lakes during the summer when it was hot as hell was pretty much the go to way to escape the heat. Sometimes my mom would bring the garden hose to the front and we'd play in the water, or she'd set up the sprinkler and I'd try to jump over it, or any number of inane games I invented as a kid. Open windows and lots of fans at night were pretty much a necessity to get to sleep. But yeah, this temperature is pretty livable. I grew up in this temperature. I'd play for hours in this temperature, then relax in the shade for some time to cool off with an ice cold drink, then go right on back to playing."

"Humans are _weird_ ," Gamora intoned.

"So you've told me."

* * *

It was less than five minutes later that Peter was loading everything up in the trunk and they were getting back in the car and blasting the AC.

Gamora sighed and slipped into the front seat, undoing her braid so she could use the tie to put her hair up in a loose bun on the top of her head, effectively freeing up the heat trap on the back of her neck.

Peter, meanwhile, was just dripping with sweat, from changing a stupid tire while being scorched by the sun. He would kill for an ice cold drink right about now. He still had sweat dripping down the back of his neck, gathered on his brow, and he could even feel how drenched his shirt was on his upper back.

"Ugh," he groaned, pulling his shirt up to his face and wiping off as much sweat as he could. When he glanced back over at Gamora, she had a deep, almost thoughtful look on her face that he didn't understand.

"What?" He asked warily, wondering if he should be worried about getting another physiology lesson.

"I like this," Gamora said, lazily reaching out, moving her hand up and down to make it clear that the _this_ was all of him.

"What?" Peter laughed almost hysterically. "You mean me? Right now? I'm so frickin' sweaty right now, Gamora. Seriously. Have you seen the back of my shirt? Drenched. I'm covered in sweat."

"Mhmm," she hummed. Gamora sat up slightly, like she was about to lean over to him, but apparently it was a struggle much harder than she thought it would be, like it took too much energy- much more than she was expecting- because she gave up in less than two seconds.

He didn't even know what she was trying to do, but it made him want to laugh. She looked so cute with her little pouty face of determination.

Gamora pushed herself up again, this time sliding along the back of her seat til she was leaning over towards him.

"I like _this_ ," she said again, following a trickle of sweat down his temple with her finger. "Looks like 'd taste good," she murmured, and Peter's adam's apple bobbed.

She dragged her finger along the trail of his sweat droplet, down his throat, to the sweat that had collected on his collarbone. She swiped it up on her finger, which she then put in her _mouth_.

Peter's breath hitched- that or he stopped breathing- he wasn't exactly sure.

"I was right," Gamora told him with a smug tone.

"Holy fuck," he gulped. "Don't tell me heat makes you horny too."

"No. _You_ make me horny. Heat makes me want to kill things. I am feeling delightfully cool right now. I love air conditioning." She sighed, sinking back into her seat and basking in the cold blasts of air.

* * *

It was in the low 80s that night, so they went for a swim in the pool at the place they were staying. Funnily enough, Peter never forgot the Fahrenheit temperature scale. Or really, it immediately came back when they got here. He thought he remembered back when he was a kid in school all his teachers saying they were going to have to learn a different way of measuring temperature, but three decades later and it looked like that still hadn't happened yet.

 _He remembered mom got him an outside thermometer to put on the porch, one that was shaped like a little frog, so he could see when it was over 100 degrees instead of asking her "It sure feels hot, huh?" Like he had heard adults do when making conversation._

 _There was a major heat wave that summer, the year he was taken. There were a lot of days over 100, more than there had been in a long time, Momma said. He remembered how excited he was when he brought his mom out on the porch to look at his frog thermometer when it said 108 degrees. She looked down at him, ruffled his hair, and smiled, "Sure is hot, huh, baby?"_

It was pretty hot today too, but the water was cool, and Gamora said the evening air was pleasantly warm, so they went for a little swim. They had booked a room at this little motel, and the pool didn't have any hours posted, so yeah, they went for a late night swim. Well, technically they were in the hot tub, not the pool, but the hot tub wasn't on or anything. They just kinda wanted to sit together in the cool water and talk and look up at the sky, so that's exactly what they did.

* * *

"I always thought earth would be the perfect temperature," Gamora hummed, resting her head back on his shoulder

Although she was much more amenable to the current temperature, after nightfall it became merely warm, rather than unbearably hot. She liked it much better now.

She also liked Peter behind her, his arms wrapped around her as she reclined against his chest, and just let her legs float or idly kick as he held onto her. She got to lie back almost on the water's surface, and rest her head on his shoulder so they could look at the stars together. "How wrong I was," she noted with a soft chuckle.

Peter nuzzled into her neck, a wonderful contrast to the cool water that night. "And why is that?" He asked glibly, his voice low and teasing as he nipped at her and nibbled her earlobe. "Why'd you make that assumption? That earth would be the perfect temperature for _your_ species?"

"You," Gamora answered easily, without a second thought. She didn't need to think about it at all. "You are always the perfect amount of warm in the middle of the night. Just the right temperature to always feel warm and safe and inviting. You always have a draw-me-in warmth. It's hard to imagine the place where you were from could be any different. But earth is _intolerable._ I thought it'd be the perfect temperature like you are. You are always just the right amount of heat to curl around me in the middle of the night. I never imagined the place you come from could be so… uncomfortable. You're my favorite source of heat. I can't believe you come from this miserable planet."

Peter laughed at that, genuine and true, and Gamora was sure his laughter was one of her favorite things to hear- it always filled her with a feeling of home.

"Well, glad to be of service," he joked, fingers twirling in her wet hair. "Though they've got lots of varied climates on earth. I guess Missouri is one of the hot places, though not the hottest by far. We still get snow here. But there are places on earth that are so cold they're covered in snow year round. We'll just have to get you to one of those places."

It sounded like a promise, the way he said it. And Gamora had to admit, she liked the sound of that.

* * *

"Peter?" Gamora reached up to languidly card her fingers through his hair, flicking out the wet droplets at the ends from when he had dunked his head underwater. She knew they'd probably be getting out soon. But he looked so breathtaking right now, the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the water and onto his face, softening his features into something hazy and almost glowing as the surface rippled from her movements. He was beautiful, she thought.

"Hmm?" He tilted his head down at her, and if she thought his face was beautiful, then she didn't have a word for the look of love and contentment in his eyes.

"I'm glad we came on this trip," she said sincerely, fingers tracing along his jaw before cupping his cheek.

She _swore_ she saw his eyes twinkle as he smiled. Peter leaned in and brushed his lips against hers in featherlight whisper of a kiss.

"Even though the car broke down," she added when their lips parted, though it was completely unnecessary.

"Popped a tire," he corrected, and kissed her again.

* * *

"I don't want to go back," Gamora confessed quietly, laying in bed together that night. They had long since dried off from their late night swim and settled into bed together, curling up under the covers. They only had two days left on this road trip. Then it was back to their real lives. Always in danger, in missions or battles, one explosion after one fight after another.

She loved their family, she really did- she loved the home they've created with the Guardians. It's just- something about the past three days with Peter, cruising around in the earth car, this road trip with just the two of them, absolutely carefree and nothing to worry about- it's been magical. And unreal. Like a dream she'd been incredibly present for, and she's never been happier, like they've been in their own little world.

She hasn't felt like Gamora, last of the Zehoberis these past few days.

She's just felt happy.

It's been so nice being able to abandon all cares and responsibilities, being able to exist in this life where they were just two normal people in love the past few days.

She wished she could freeze time in this moment forever.

She wanted them to stay here.

Gamora liked being a Guardian of the Galaxy, she liked going on missions, figuring things out, saving people who no one else could, and she loved the rest of their family.

She still thought it would be nice to stay here with Peter forever, curled up in this hotel bed for the rest of time. Have a normal life. With him.

It's been so nice these past few days. She knew it was just a fantasy, that they'd ever really be able to continue on and on like this, but it was a really nice fantasy. She wanted to stay in their own little world.

She pulled the covers tighter around her shoulders, feeling a sudden sense of vulnerability, and moved closer to him, nestling right up against him, really. Peter's warmth always was the perfect comfort late at night, and now was no exception. Having him close always made her feel safe.

Peter's fingertips trailed as her temple, almost caressing the soft stray hairs that framed her face with such an incredible amount of care. He gave her a bittersweet, heartrending, and utterly understanding smile. Gamora's eyelashes fluttered to a close under the weight of his gaze.

His chest absolutely ached at her expression, at the longing in her voice. He was thinking the exact same thing too, feeling the exact same feeling he could see in her eyes.

He wanted this to never end. It was nice to pretend that they could ever have a normal life.

Peter let his eyes slip shut too as he leaned his forehead against hers. "I wish we could stay," he whispered, and Gamora swallowed thickly.

They were silent for a while after that, just curled into each other, holding each other close.

"Thank you," Gamora finally said, her voice barely even a murmur as her breath grazed his cheek. She didn't know why she was being so quiet- it wasn't like anyone was going to overhear them. It just felt right. Being soft and quiet with him in this moment.

"For what?"

"For… for giving me this. These past few days. They have been… everything," she told him, throat tight with emotion.

The arm that he already had encircling her held her tighter, pulling her in even closer, like they could never be close enough. Peter buried his face in the crook of her neck and nuzzled into her. "You're my everything," he whispered into her skin.

It should have sounded cheesy, but it didn't. His voice was as choked up as hers was, and it sounded right. The fact that it meant as much to him as it did to her made her heart feel like it was going to burst. In a good way. The best way.

* * *

And maybe they'd have to go back to their lives of constant danger and explosions and the responsibility of keeping the galaxy safe. But they'd always have these five days, cruising around Missouri and feeling utterly complete.

They'd always have these five days of their own little world. And they'd always have each other, no matter what world they were in.

That was enough to make everything else inconsequential. They had each other. That's all that mattered. Still.

They'd always have these memories too.

* * *

 _ **~FIN~**_

* * *

 **AN: Fic title is from Oceans by Misterwives, which I highly recommend listening to, and fits so well with this fic thematically, even though I'd already had this written by the time I'd remembered I'd always wanted to name a Starmora fic after that line**

 **Two things: First, some of my nerdiness worked it's way into this fic, so you can know that the information Gamora spouts off about humans and cheetahs being the best runners on earth is actually scientifically accurate. My headcannon for this fic where she can't remember what she's referencing is that they watched a documentary together (maybe while curled up on a motel bed?) and that's where she learned that fact.**

 **And second, that information about Missouri having a heat wave and getting up to 108° F the year Peter was taken is historically accurate too.**

 **Plus, you know Peter was an 80s kid, so he's gotta be like "I thought we were switching over to Celsius? All the teachers made such a big deal about how we needed to learn it because the whole country was gonna switch? What ever happened to that?"**  
 **I mean, he might not remember the word Celsius, but still.**


End file.
